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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23421241">Cracked Up</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/witchway/pseuds/witchway'>witchway</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Iron Man (Comics), Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>College Student Peter Parker, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Tony Stark Needs a Hug</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 09:33:51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,459</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23421241</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/witchway/pseuds/witchway</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>for @stxrk-ho-au</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Peter Parker/Tony Stark, Starker - Relationship</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>33</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Cracked Up</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Zooming back to the city from the compound, Tony checked the time.  Good.  He’d be back by early morning, which meant he could fit enough sleep in to be coherent when Peter came by the penthouse.  He had FRIDAY read him his messages as the fields of upstate New York flew past in the darkness.</p><p>“Boring,” he called out after the third business message.  “Do I have anything from Peter?”</p><p>FRIDAY confirmed.  </p><p>“Why didn’t you…always read those first.  Mark those priority.“</p><p>“This one just came in boss.”</p><p>“Read it.”</p><p>“Dear Tony, comma, next paragraph.  Thank you for my amazing birthday dinner.  You were right, it was memorable.  It was a lot of things.  It was really wonderful.  Next paragraph.</p><p>“But I don’t think I’ll be back around for a while.  I thought about it a lot, and I </p><p>don’t think I’m going to take you up on your offer.  I don’t think we should be dating.  I spent a lot of time thinking about it and I don’t think it’s the right time for me.  Next paragraph.”</p><p>FRIDAY’s calm voice continue to speak factually, reading Peter’s e-mail, reading the punctuation.  Tony brought the Tesla to the shoulder, skidding only a little, kicking up only a little dust.</p><p>“Everything about you is amazing, and whoever you date next is going to be a very lucky guy.  Or girl.  But that just isn’t me.  I’m busy being the Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man now, and really need to be the Friendly Neighborhood Peter for a while too.  Next paragraph.”</p><p>Tony wasn’t entirely sure <em>how</em> he got out of the car, only that being out of the car was imperative.  He was certain the air outside would be cooler, and if it were cooler it would be possible to breathe.  He couldn’t breathe the air inside the car.  Inside the car he was suffocating.  </p><p>Collapsed outside in the cold night air, he listened to his heart pound as FRIDAY continued to read.</p><p>“…and I know that you don’t approve of Wade.  <em>Most</em> people don’t approve of Wade.  That’s kind of the <em>point</em>.  But if you think about it Wade and I have so much more in common than you and me.  I mean think about where we grew up.  If you think about it, you’ll see.  End paragraph.”  </p><p>This wasn’t right.  His lungs should be filling up with air now, certainly there had to be air outside the car, wasn’t there?  And yet that didn’t seem to be the case.  He would ask FRIDAY why that wasn’t the case.  Just as soon as he could make his voice work.  Just as soon as his heart stopped pounding so loudly in his ears.</p><p>“But there’s still the matter of the suit you made me.  We still need to talk about that…”</p><p>FRIDAY’s voice was fading, but that was all right.  If he could work his jaw he would call on her to stop, but he couldn’t anymore.  Speaking required moving, and he couldn’t.  His eyes were closing, and that was also all right.  He should probably do something about the fact that he couldn’t breathe, really that should be a priority, but moving his body was impossible now.  His limbs felt heavy and immobile.  Maybe he was dying.</p><p>FRIDAY, god bless her, was still talking.  But it wasn’t FRIDAY’s calm, soothing voice anymore.  It was Peter’s.</p><p>“…which gets to the fundamental problem of it all, Tony.  For you 2 + 2 = trips to Paris and a Westwood tux and a $250,000 watch.  For me 2 + 2 = Shakespeare.  And believe me when I say, the three witches DO show up in Act II <em>hello</em> I DO remember Macbeth <b><em>thank you</em></b>!”</p><p>This was insane.  Tony tried to lift his hand to point out that this was insane, but his hand wasn’t moving.  He was paralyzed from the neck down – no, his head wasn’t moving either.  He was already dead.  </p><p>“…and don’t give me that shit about not remembering my lines because I’ll improv.  I’m the master of cheesy one-liners.  And you can’t really hurt me because I’m stronger than you, but maybe stop hitting me in the face now lover?  Hey FRIDAY turn on the lights.  Hello?  Hey Tony, it’s time to come back now.  Hey, Tony.  Hi!  Are we awake?  No, no, <em><b>no</b></em>.  Nope.”</p><p>Tony’s hand pulled back and encountered something solid and painful.  He threw a punch at the face swimming in front of him but Peter batted his fist away without even flinching.  The rest of the blows he shrugged off as if Tony were a child.  He pulled Tony’s chest to his chest and held him there solidly, stroking his hair as Tony continued to fight.  “Where are you, Tony?” he asked, his tone of voice never changing.  “<em>Stop</em>.  You’re going to hurt your hands if you keep hitting me.  Where are you now?  Hey!  Where are we?”</p><p>“I’m driving back to the city to see you.  You <em>can’t do this to me</em> Peter.  I’m driving the Tesla  I’ve wrecked the Tesla…”  </p><p>“<em>Not</em> in the bedroom you’re not!  I live here too, remember…”  Peter said, grinning at his newest inside joke.  But his humor was wasted on Tony.  He rarely remembered the conversations they had after his nightmares.  So Peter satisfied himself with talking gently and waiting for Tony’s eyes to focus on his.  When he did his voice was cracked and strained.</p><p>“Did I hit you?”</p><p>“No, but you thwacked the headboard pretty badly.  I think that’s gonna leave a mark.  I don’t <em>let</em> you hit me, baby.  You’d hurt yourself.”</p><p>“Did the suit make an appearance?”  he asked, still hoarse, leaning forward in Peter’s arms as his eyes looked fearfully around the room.  </p><p>“Not even a peep.  I was sure it would this time.  You were actually sitting up for a couple of minutes now.  But the nightmare protocols are holding.  They work.  That’s a plus.”</p><p>Tony’s shoulder’s sagged in relief and, for just a moment, he sank into Peter’s arms.</p><p>But only for a moment.  Then he was pushing away and mumbling an apology.</p><p>“What time is it?”</p><p>“It a half-hour shy of when I need to be in the shower anyway.  Look, Tony…”</p><p>Peter reached for Tony’s hand.  He picked it up carefully.  He spoke with even more care.</p><p>“This is going to hurt in the morning.  And that’s <em>twice</em> now you’ve hurt yourself over nightmares.  I think it’s time to…”</p><p>“Forget it.”</p><p>“If it stops you from working then it’s interfering with what you want to do, and if it’s interfering with what you want to do then <em>that</em> is the time to..”</p><p>“I told you to drop it,” Tony grumbled, pulling away and laying back down.  As if he were really going back to sleep, his jaw tight, his shoulders hunched.</p><p>“Tony you know it’s PTSD.  Why <em>not</em> talk to the guy with the degree in…”</p><p>“I said forget it.”    </p><p>“Then at least lose the headboard and move the bed away from the wall!” Peter said angrily.  He didn’t raise his voice (nor did he point out the obvious reason <em>why</em> his lover hadn’t decked him repeatedly before his nightmares were over.)  “Do that weird rich-guy thing and have a bed in the middle of the room.”</p><p>“Fine.  I’ll have the movers come and take care of it today.”</p><p>“Why <em>pay</em> anyone?  I can move the whole thing myself.”</p><p>“Fine.”</p><p>“Fine.”  </p><p>For a moment Peter watched Tony’s back as he lay angrily on the bed in the silent room.  He waited for Tony’s body to relax.  When it didn’t, Peter reached out and stroked Tony’s hair.</p><p>“Shouldn’t you be getting some sleep?”</p><p>Peter sighed.  “No, actually, I’m getting a shower.”</p><p>He climbed out of the bed.</p><p>Looking back at Tony he could see the man’s eyes were open, watching him, looking slightly regretful (but still pouting like a child.)</p><p>“And you’re gonna join me.”  </p><p>He looked down defiantly at the man laying on the bed and waited.  He wasn’t exactly in the right position to be making demands.  He wasn’t exactly Tony’s <em>wife</em>.  More of a glorified house-guest.  The silence stretched out as Peter waited for the argument to begin.  </p><p>Instead Tony only said one thing.  He said it as he stood.  He said it so quietly that only Peter could have heard him.</p><p>“The only reason I haven’t cracked up is probably because you moved in.”  </p><p>Peter smiled.  He tried not to smile too much.  He took the man by the hand and gently led him away from the bed.</p><p>“I don’t blame you for the nightmares, by the way.  I know you’ve seen scary things.  Was it the wormhole again?”</p><p>Tony shuddered and shook his head, and Peter wondered.  What could have been worse?</p>
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